---Statements
I’m beginning to abhor the anticipation of waiting.
I think I’m beginning to feel like I need to start to defoliate excesses from my life.
The Elaboration
My patience is … evolving. Some things like traffic begin to really irk me when I realize the journey is going to take me 15 minutes longer. And I do mean, making my heart go erratic and louder, the grip on my hard rubber steering grasp like an eagles claw and eyes boring past the windscreen at the world outside.
I’ve noticed I’m telling myself that I’ll probably only wait up to a maximum of another 20 minutes outside their house, waiting for their exit – when I’ve called in advance and told them approximately what time I’ll be arriving and confirming the time on arrival.
If I’m ever late, I’ll call or text message to say so, and even then I make that rarely.
I’m telling myself I should be nicer through the months, but m patience seems to be wearing thinner.
Is one an affectation of another?
Is this any better or worse for my sanity?
---
Maybe I feel like tings should begin. I thought I’ve gone past this.
Maybe I just need to get to the gym now, not next week. I should get the art projects now, not this weekend.
This horrible anticipation of things to come, and the ever-increasing fraught-ful thoughts of it slipping away just as easily and quickly, nips at me.
By the hour.
---
Its an abstracted emotion, I realize.
Nothing I can quite capture with words, metaphor or perspectives.
I’m getting mildly disgusted at the phrase “You’re not so old for ***”.
What the Fuck do they know really?
Are they in the industry I’m striving and struggling to enter. Have they any foothold, interest or remarkable experience in the world of fantasy / digital illustration that they can claim “one is never too old”.
While it rings true, it lack the premise of conviction because its out of context to their own perspective and experience. … because they mean well, with little constructive ability to relevant support.
But this understanding, no matter how much I know they mean well – I just get pissed off. I don’t go making flippant commentary about how late in their ‘little career’ they’re making off with.
Much less, the career they actually intended to pursue as a dream since childhood or the foolish indecisions of what a career was since college graduation. I bit my tongue.
So there you have it: the appreciation of a finer, more tactful tongue – fueling a fiery anger beneath.
---
Prose
Fingers laced lattice shadows across the small of her back.
The crook of the neck, visible from the shortened clumps of hair on the nape.
That is why, I take them from behind.
That is the virtue of taking.
Preserving their beauty.
If only they would sit still, long enough.
But they do eventually – as the last airy gasps for air is prevented release.
No escape from this eternal beauty I give them.
I’m beginning to abhor the anticipation of waiting.
I think I’m beginning to feel like I need to start to defoliate excesses from my life.
The Elaboration
My patience is … evolving. Some things like traffic begin to really irk me when I realize the journey is going to take me 15 minutes longer. And I do mean, making my heart go erratic and louder, the grip on my hard rubber steering grasp like an eagles claw and eyes boring past the windscreen at the world outside.
I’ve noticed I’m telling myself that I’ll probably only wait up to a maximum of another 20 minutes outside their house, waiting for their exit – when I’ve called in advance and told them approximately what time I’ll be arriving and confirming the time on arrival.
If I’m ever late, I’ll call or text message to say so, and even then I make that rarely.
I’m telling myself I should be nicer through the months, but m patience seems to be wearing thinner.
Is one an affectation of another?
Is this any better or worse for my sanity?
---
Maybe I feel like tings should begin. I thought I’ve gone past this.
Maybe I just need to get to the gym now, not next week. I should get the art projects now, not this weekend.
This horrible anticipation of things to come, and the ever-increasing fraught-ful thoughts of it slipping away just as easily and quickly, nips at me.
By the hour.
---
Its an abstracted emotion, I realize.
Nothing I can quite capture with words, metaphor or perspectives.
I’m getting mildly disgusted at the phrase “You’re not so old for ***”.
What the Fuck do they know really?
Are they in the industry I’m striving and struggling to enter. Have they any foothold, interest or remarkable experience in the world of fantasy / digital illustration that they can claim “one is never too old”.
While it rings true, it lack the premise of conviction because its out of context to their own perspective and experience. … because they mean well, with little constructive ability to relevant support.
But this understanding, no matter how much I know they mean well – I just get pissed off. I don’t go making flippant commentary about how late in their ‘little career’ they’re making off with.
Much less, the career they actually intended to pursue as a dream since childhood or the foolish indecisions of what a career was since college graduation. I bit my tongue.
So there you have it: the appreciation of a finer, more tactful tongue – fueling a fiery anger beneath.
---
Prose
Fingers laced lattice shadows across the small of her back.
The crook of the neck, visible from the shortened clumps of hair on the nape.
That is why, I take them from behind.
That is the virtue of taking.
Preserving their beauty.
If only they would sit still, long enough.
But they do eventually – as the last airy gasps for air is prevented release.
No escape from this eternal beauty I give them.
6 comments:
Sometimes it's good to hold our tongue, bro... but let's not get into the habit of biting it lest we lose our 'voice' one day...
Keep the faith!
can't handle the truth?
to recap...i think people always have an opinion about each other, regardless of how they see you... though it is true, if you are perceived as having a financially secure job...making loads of money...driving fancy cars and heck, having a degree or two or... gasp..a Phd. and Masters, then their perception changes.
I have been in your shoes and lord knows, i do get "treated" with the same skepticism as well - and mind you, most of it comes from my family! But in the end, if I believe I CAN DO IT or at least believe I CAN TRY and do ..then who the heck cares if I fail and fall flat on my bum? For better or for worse..at least, I said..I have tried?
I know the truth does hurt..but in the end, how we let it hurt us, now that depends on how much we believe in ourselves and how thick our skins can be! :-p
fuck amazing race asia if we don't get it... we can make our own race someday!
"I wish I had been born with an unfair advantage, instead of having to acquire one..."
Character is what you are. Reputation is what people think you are.
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